


We prefer the darkness

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Caning, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Shopkeeper!Draco, auror!Harry, dom!draco, sub!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 06:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and a cursed item.What could go wrong?





	We prefer the darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsundanire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundanire/gifts).



> A little birdy told me it was your birthday @Tsun. I hope this brings you smutty birthday joy  
> <3

It was a day like any other when the Aurors burst in. Draco looked up from the customer he was serving, frowned and looked back down at the elderly witch.  
'Follow those instructions, and you shouldn't have any more trouble with it,' he said, handing the necklace back to her. She tucked it into her bag, along with the folded slip of paper, and gave him a tremulous smile before hurrying out of the shop, head down as she passed the three burly figures in Auror robes.

Borgin and Burkes might no longer be the haven for dark magic and illegal goods it had been ten years earlier, but it still wasn't a place most people wanted Magical Law Enforcement to see them.  
Draco sighed internally, forced his face into a politely enquiring mask and looked at the figures stomping their way towards him. Then he froze as bright green eyes met his from behind wire-framed glasses.

Potter pushed his way past his two colleagues and fronted up to the counter.  
'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' he demanded.  
'I work here, Potter,' Draco snorted. 'I've owned this place for the last six years, which you would know if you ever opened your eyes when you were prancing around Diagon Alley.'  
Potter scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. He'd filled out, Draco noted, flicking his eyes across the form in front of him. He'd seen Potter in the papers, of course. Damned Chosen One was always being splashed across them … but it had been quite a few years since he'd been so close to the man, in the flesh, as it were.

'I don't prance,' Potter grunted, 'And I don’t come into the dodgy parts of the wizarding district unless I'm looking for dodgy people.'  
Draco arched an eyebrow, the barb hitting home. If only he could pick up the shop and take it out of the darkness and into the light … but a large part of his clientele still preferred the darkness.  
'Of course,' he said instead, voice smooth and calm. He tilted his arm, so that his dark mark, where it sat stark against his skin, was visible to the three of them. He saw Potter's eyes flick down to it and linger for a moment. Draco let his lip curl. He didn’t need Potter's judgement. Didn't need anything from him.

'As one of the 'dodgiest' of people, as you might say, I am sure it would be my pleasure to serve our illustrious Auror force in whichever way I can.' He made sure his voice reflected the entirety of his disdain for the Aurors, the Ministry and for the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Invade-His-Peace.  
Potter's scowl deepened and Draco smirked in response.  
'Cut the shit, Malfoy. We need you to identify something.' Potter reached into his robes and threw a handful of photographs on the counter. Draco held his eye a moment longer before looking down.

He recognised the item in an instant - had one out the back - but took his time analysing the images, picking each up in turn. The statue itself was relatively harmless. It caused minor effects in susceptible individuals, nothing the Aurors would need to worry about.  
'I may know what it is,' he said finally, meeting Potter's eyes again, ignoring the two behind him.

Potter waited a few moments for him to speak. Draco could see him getting more impatient with each passing second.  
'Fuck's sake, Malfoy, this isn't a game. What do you know?'  
Draco arched an eyebrow, a fission of satisfaction running through him at the knowledge that he could still get a rise out of the Golden Boy.  
'Oh, I'm sorry,' he said, feigning puzzlement. 'I was waiting for you to explain the fee structure.'

'Fee - There's no fee structure,' Potter all but growled. 'You tell us what you know, or you end up in a cell. How's that for a fee structure?'  
The two Aurors standing behind him exchanged glances and Malfoy knew Potter couldn't back what he was saying. He decided to see how far he could push it.  
'Really, Potter? Is this what our noble Law Enforcement has stooped to? Threatening innocent shopkeepers? Refusing to pay for valuable expertise? Blackmail, some might say?'

Potter did growl this time, hand dropping to his wand. Draco raised his hands, showing they were empty, and opened his eyes wide, putting on his best 'frightened damsel' expression.  
One of the Aurors behind Potter, a thin, light-haired man, stepped forward, laying his hand on Potter's arm. For a moment Draco thought Potter would still pull his wand and hex him. He hoped the wards woven into his clothes would be able to resist a spell at almost point blank range.

But then Potter jerked his arm away and took a step back.  
'Fine,' he muttered. And then louder, his green eyes hot with anger as he glared at Draco. 'Fine. Play it that way, Malfoy. Once a bastard, always a bastard, hey.'  
'You'd know, Potter,' Draco said, mustering his coldest, most disdainful expression. After all, he didn't give a damn what Harry Potter thought of him. He never had.

\----

Draco was fast asleep when his wards went off, the sound echoing with a blare of alarm. He jolted awake, grabbing his wand and running out of his room and down the stairs into the shop. He had _so many_ things he couldn't afford to lose. If any of his signature pieces were stolen, it would set him back six months in profit. 

He forced himself to slow as he reached the back door that led into the shop. He had no idea how many of them there might be, and where in the shop they could be hiding. All he knew was that they would know he was coming.  
With a sharp wave of his wand, he silenced the alarm. The absence of the sound was jarring, making the shadows seem deeper.

Draco cast a disillusionment charm on himself and eased the door open. The moon was high and it sent silvery light through the shop, the skylight coming in handy for once. Damned thing was a pain in the arse to clean. Draco forced his thoughts back to the task at hand, eyes running over the still scene in front of him. He couldn’t see or hear anything and he began to creep forward, wand raised.

He was a dozen paces into one of the aisles when he heard it, a shuffle of clothing and a low curse. It was coming from the back, where some of the darker items were kept. Draco changed direction, padding noiselessly on bare feet.  
He heard the scuffling again and then a muttered, 'Fucks sake.' The voice sounded familiar. But it couldn't be. Surely, he wouldn't be that stupid - 

Draco rounded the corner and laughed out loud. Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, was laying face down across a whipping bench. His arms were bound in front of him and his ankles were tied at the base of it. At the sound of Draco's laugh, Potter stopped his struggling and cursing and whipped his head around. Draco let his charm go and Potter's face darkened in anger.  
'Get me out of here, Malfoy. Right now.'

Draco considered him for a moment, eyes taking in the scene. Potter in dark clothes, bent forward and helpless. He noticed something on the ground and his lips curved into a smile.  
' _Accio_ Potter's wand,' he said, and his grin deepened when it smacked into his hand. He put it on a side table, far out of Potter's reach and took a step forward, waving his own wand to light up the area around them with a soft glow.

'Well, well, what have we here,' he said, watching as Potter's face darkened further and he pulled against his bonds.  
'I wouldn't bother, Potter. The bench is charmed. It will only release you if it's given a very specific word.'  
Potter growled and pulled at the restraints again, sagging back against the bench after a few moments, when they showed no sign of give.  
'Say the word then, Malfoy. Let me out of here, or I swear-'  
'You swear what, Potter. You swear you'll arrest me? Perhaps the best thing for me to do would be to call the Aurors myself. After all, I am the victim of a malicious break in. By an Auror, no less! I take it this … visit … was not sanctioned?'

Potter dropped his gaze and Draco nodded, 'That's what I thought. So it seems I'm the one with the power in this situation, does it not?'  
Potter sighed, looking back up at Draco, 'What do you want, Malfoy?'  
Draco felt a thrill run though him at the words, at the thought that he actually did have Potter completely at his mercy. Not that he would do anything truly bad … he wasn’t a school boy any more, after all. But that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun …

'Wellll,' he said, drawing out the word. 'You really haven't done the right thing here, have you, Potter? Perhaps you need to be punished for your misdemeanour before you can be released.'  
He fully expected Potter to tell him to go fuck himself, but what happened instead stopped him dead.  
Potter drew in a sharp breath and his eyes widened, darkening with heat.  
Draco stared at him, mouth hanging open slightly. Surely he had just imagined it. Surely Potter - Harry Potter - didn't want him to -

Draco took a step closer. 'Do you need to be punished, Potter?' he asked slowly.  
This time he definitely caught the faint movement of Potter's hips, and the flare of interest in his eyes before he closed them, turning away and speaking into his arm as he said, 'Get fucked, Malfoy. Let me out of here … please.'  
The word 'please' - from Potter - sent a curl of desire through Draco, heading straight for his groin. He cast his eyes over Potter again, taking in the curve of his arse, and the stretch of his body.

'Say it again,' Draco said, voice slightly husky.  
Potter moved his head slowly, so he was looking at Draco again.  
'Say what?' he said, though Draco could tell he knew.  
'Say please. Beg me to let you go … and I will.'

Potter held his gaze for a moment that seemed to last forever. Then he licked his lips.  
'Please,' he said, softly, eyes not leaving Draco's.  
Draco felt the heat flare again and his cock twitched. Potter's gaze travelled down his body and Draco realised for the first time that all he was wearing was the emerald green silk pants he'd gone to sleep in. The thin material was doing nothing to hide the evidence of his rapidly growing arousal.  
Potter licked his lips and spoke again. 'Please, Malfoy. Let me go.' His eyes were on Draco's groin and Draco felt himself harden further at the intensity of the gaze.

'Call me sir,' he said and Potter's eyes jerked back up to his. Potter's breath hitched and this time his push against the bench was a grind. Draco realised with a jolt of pleasure that Potter was hard too. Potter wanted this.  
'Please let me go,' Potter said slowly. '… sir.'  
'Fuck,' Draco breathed, reaching down to palm himself through the silk of his pants.  
Potter bit his lip at the movement, gaze dropping to Draco's hand.

Draco forced himself to let go. He took a step forward, until he was within reach of Potter. Then he mustered his courage and spoke again.  
'I asked you before,' he said, voice husky with want. 'If you need to be punished.' He looked down at the bound form spread out before him.  
'Do you, Potter?'

Potter squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into his arm. But Draco could still hear the words when he spoke them.  
'Yes … please … sir.'

\---

Harry could feel the humiliation of the words he had spoken churn through him, mixing with the fire of his arousal and fanning it higher. He felt his memories of the past - the few times he'd indulged in this particular fantasy - merging with the present. But he still couldn't believe he was asking _Malfoy_ to punish him.

He hadn't been able to get Malfoy out of his mind all day - the way he'd looked, that same challenging smirk - but everything else, different. His hair was shaved up the sides now and longer on top and he looked _good_ in the fitted trousers, the shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the waistcoat wrapping around his body. It had been years since he'd seen Malfoy, and coming face to face with those silver eyes and that knowing look had thrown him more than he wanted to admit.

He'd had some half-baked plan about sneaking into the shop after dark to look for information about the statue. Now - bound and bent over as he was - he could admit that he'd just wanted the possibility of seeing Malfoy again. Of matching words - and maybe even spells. This … this he had never imagined.

He was brought back to the present by Malfoy's voice and the clink of movement.  
'Have you ever been caned, Potter?' came the smooth voice.  
Harry shivered at the question, and at the thought that this was what was coming. He'd been spanked, and had had a flogger used on him … but the cut of a cane. He felt desire curl through him at the idea.  
'No,' he whispered.  
'No, what?' Malfoy asked, and Harry heard the whistling of moving air as something sliced through it.  
He swallowed, closing his eyes and feeling his cock jerk as he said the words. 'No, sir.'

Malfoy hummed in approval and Harry felt heat curl through him. He didn't know why he was reacting so strongly to Malfoy - but just the thought of being so vulnerable to him had been driving his need higher since the moment he'd seen the man silhouetted in the moonlight.  
'It would work better without clothing in the way, don't you think, Potter?'  
There was a hint of hesitancy in the question, as though Malfoy was playing a role he wasn't quite sure about. It was this that gave Harry the confidence to speak. This and the idea of being bent over and naked, his whole body on display.  
'Yes, sir' he rasped, feeling pre-come spurt from the tip of his cock.

A second later he gasped as his clothes disappeared. He felt his skin prickle at the sensation of cold air and at the soft moan of sound he heard from behind him.  
Then Malfoy cleared his throat and spoke again. 'Right, ten lashes should teach you a lesson, don't you think?'  
'Yes, sir,' Harry said, pressing back unconsciously as he thought of what was to come, so that his legs spread further apart.  
'Gods, Potter,' came Malfoy's voice.

Then Harry jerked as he felt the scrape of the cane up the back of his leg, from his calf to his arse cheek. His entire focus narrowed to the sensation of it being drawn across his skin, and he whimpered when Malfoy reached his back and took the cane away. Then the sensation returned, up his other leg this time, and Harry had to stop himself from arching into it - seeking the contact of it.

The whistle of the cane through the air was his only warning before the razor sharp sting of pain cracked across his thighs. Harry cried out, the feeling going straight to his cock and he jerked forward against the bench.  
'One,' came Malfoy's voice from behind him, and Harry could hear the quaver in it. The sound had him pressing back, seeking the next blow. The restraints at his wrists pulled tight, cutting into him and he welcomed the sensation - the feeling of being bound.

There was a hiss of sound - from Malfoy or the cane - and then another line of fire streaked across his skin. Harry took it and moaned at the pain. He'd never felt anything as intensely sharp and perfect.  
'Two.' Harry could hear Malfoy's breathing; it was quicker now.

Two more strikes came in quick succession now, higher, up on his arse cheeks. Malfoy panted them out. 'Three. Four.'  
Harry's hips jerked forward. He couldn't tell if he wanted to get away from the sensation or beg for more. He ground his cock against the slick leather of the bench, feeling the slide of his pre-come. He'd never been so hard. He wondered if Malfoy would fuck him. _Gods_ , he hoped Malfoy would fuck him. He pushed back, spreading his legs as wide as he could, his shame from earlier falling away. He wanted Malfoy to know - to see - how much he wanted him.

Harry could hear Malfoy move forward, and he braced himself for the next blow, but it was Malfoy's hand that touched him, fingers tracing over the lines on his skin. Harry gasped at the feeling of Malfoy's touch against his tender skin.  
'Do you like that, Potter?' Malfoy asked, voice thick.  
'Yes,' Harry moaned, feeling lines of fire spread across his body that had nothing to do with the strikes of the cane. 'Yes, sir.'  
'Can you be good, Harry?' Malfoy asked, spreading his hand flat on Harry's skin.

Harry felt the words burn through him and he nodded, frantically. He could be good. He would be good. 'Yes, sir. I'll be good.'  
Malfoy made a noncommittal noise and stepped back. Harry felt the loss of his touch more sharply than he felt the fifth blow of the cane.

'Will you break into people's shops again, Harry?'  
'No, sir,' Harry moaned. 'I'm sorry, sir.'  
'Six.' Was all the response he got, as the cane cracked against his bruised skin.

'Will you bully people into giving you want you want, Harry?'  
'No, sir,' Harry gasped. 'I won't, I'm sorry.'  
'Seven.'  
Harry cried out at the blow, crossing the others. Then the hands were back, soft and sure, smoothing over his skin. He closed his eyes, resting his head on his arm and breathed out raggedly. The hands continued their tender ministrations. He never wanted them to stop.

'Three more, okay, Harry?'  
Harry wanted to protest, but the larger part of him wanted to hear the sounds of approval again. He nodded, 'Okay, sir.'  
'Good boy, Harry,' came the voice, and Harry let it shiver through him, warming him and holding him close. He felt the soft press of lips against his bare skin and then the contact was gone before he could process it.  
The sting of the cane replaced it and Harry felt tears come to his eyes at the absence of the touch.

'Eight.'

Harry began to speak, desperate to say or do anything that would bring the touch back.  
'Please, sir. I'm sorry. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you. I promise.'

'Nine.'  
The line of fire burned across his skin again and he heard his voice crack as he continued to beg.

The final blow fell, swift and merciless and then Harry heard the whisper of the word, ' _Ten_ '. Then the cane clattered to the ground and the hands were back on him, gentle and soothing.

\----

Draco looked down at Harry spread out before him, panting and jerking, the faint trace of tears across his cheeks. He had never seen anything more beautiful - anything more arousing - in his life, than this … than Harry Potter falling to pieces under his hands.  
He let the cane fall to the ground and then knelt behind Harry, running his hands over the raised and reddened welts striped across his skin.  
Harry murmured something that sounded like approval and Draco leaned forward to kiss the angry line under his hands. He couldn't help himself. He couldn't keep from touching the man underneath him.

'You were so good, Harry,' he murmured, as he kissed the marks. 'So perfect. I never thought - never imagined. You were everything, Harry. Everything.'  
He paused, pulling back and Harry made a mewling sound of disappointment, of loss.  
Draco leaned in again, needing nothing more than that to urge him on. He licked and kissed his way across each of the angry red lines in turn, soothing them with his touch. He worked his way up Harry's thighs, barely paying attention to anything but his need to make the man under his hands feel better. To take away the sting of the pain.

It wasn't until he reached the curve of Harry's arse that he registered the sounds Harry was making had changed from whimpers to moans. He hesitated and Harry pushed his arse back with a throaty, 'Please. Don't stop. Want you. Please, Draco.'  
He thrilled at his name on Harry's lips and put his hands on Harry's arse, spreading his cheeks before licking a long, hot stripe between them. Harry jerked and moaned louder and Draco felt his cock - already achingly hard - jerk in tandem.

He placed his hands more deliberately, making sure he was avoiding the worst of the stripes and then licked again, and again, losing himself in Harry's moans and sighs, losing himself in giving pleasure as much as he had in giving pain. He licked and kissed and nipped and Harry's moans turned into pleas.  
'Draco, please. Need you. PleasePleasePlease.'

Draco reached down to Harry's ankles, and whispered the words to release him from the restraints. Harry immediately spread his legs wider and Draco put a hand on his own cock, squeezing it hard to keep himself in check. He couldn't believe how much Harry wanted it - wanted _him_.  
He stood, leaning forward over Harry and reached for the restraints at his wrists.  
Harry pushed himself back against Draco's body with a moan of satisfaction and Draco felt his cock slide against Harry's arse - the thin silk of his pants the only thing separating the two of them.

He hissed in pleasure and ground forward, unable to help himself. Harry moaned, 'Yes, just like that. Please.'  
Draco reached for the restraints again and Harry seemed to realise what he was doing, because his eyes shot open and he looked back over his shoulder at Draco.  
'Leave them,' he rasped. 'Please? I like them.'  
Draco looked at him, helpless against the blazing want in Harry's eyes.  
He didn't respond; instead he leaned in, capturing Harry's mouth in a clumsy, awkward kiss - full of passion and want. He kissed Harry while he moved his hips slowly against his arse, grinding into him in a way that had both of them panting and moaning into each other's mouths.

It was filthy and Draco didn't think he'd ever done anything more perfect in his life.

Suddenly he couldn't wait anymore. He reached down, freeing his cock from his pants and rubbing it against Harry's still slick hole. Harry's eyes closed and he bit his lip as Draco pushed forward. Draco captured his mouth in a kiss again, reaching under Harry to finally put his hand on Harry's cock. Harry groaned at the contact and Draco thrust forward into Harry's tight, hot body.

They both cried out as Draco pushed inside - pushed forward until his hips were flat against Harry's still-red arse. Draco had to stop for a moment, resting his head against Harry's shoulder, panting - trying to get control of the sensation that was rocketing through his entire body at the knowledge - the feeling - of being inside Harry.

Then Harry moved, jerking his hips forward in Draco's hand and pushing back, a clear demand for him to move. Draco chuckled throatily and swatted Harry's arse lightly with his free hand.  
'Always so impatient, Potter,' he murmured. Then he propped himself up on that hand and pulled most of the way out, before thrusting home in one long movement.  
Harry groaned, 'Fuck, Draco.' The sound was broken and needy.

Draco pulled back out and plunged in, one hand tight on Harry's cock, giving him something to push into. He sped up, losing himself in the tight heat - the perfection of Harry's body, of his movements and his sounds.

He had been wrong before, he hadn't taken Harry apart at all. This - _this_ \- was Harry coming apart under his hands. Harry's arms and back were all corded muscle as he pulled tight against the leather cuffs, trying to get as close to Draco as he could.  
His voice was one long, continuous mess of moans and pleas and Draco had never heard anything sweeter.

He fucked hard into Harry, his shop filled with the slick sounds of their skin meeting as he snapped his hips forward again and again. He felt Harry beginning to shake, and his words cut off into one long cry. A second later Draco felt Harry's cock pulse in his fist as he painted the bench beneath himself with his release.

Draco felt heat rush through him and he released Harry's cock, moving both hands to his hips as he stood up straight, using all the leverage he had to fuck forward, pounding into the man underneath him. It was a matter of seconds - ten - twenty - before he was coming too, hot and hard, his orgasm ripping through him with an urgency that had him crying out into the empty shop.

His hips slowed and he leaned forward, unable to support himself any longer as he rested his head on Harry's now-still shoulders, pressing a gentle, reverent kiss against the skin there.

He reached one hand out so he was touching the leather cuffs at Harry's wrists and then he murmured, 'Open.' The leather cuffs loosened immediately, falling harmlessly to the side.  
There was a jerk of movement beneath him and Draco realised Harry was laughing soundlessly.

'Open?' Harry croaked. 'The fucking secret word was _open_?'  
Draco pulled back slightly to look down at Harry's face, but the man beneath him was smiling in genuine humour. He turned slightly, bringing one of his arms down so he could look at Draco more easily.  
'You really are a bastard, Malfoy. You know that?'  
'You'd know, Potter,' Draco grinned. Then he leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
